


Proximity

by Dollypegs



Series: Proximity Stories [1]
Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-19
Updated: 2020-04-19
Packaged: 2021-03-01 17:54:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,662
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23741152
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dollypegs/pseuds/Dollypegs
Summary: Nanny Ashtoreth gets an emergency phone call post Nopocalypse.
Relationships: Aziraphale & Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Series: Proximity Stories [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1960981
Comments: 17
Kudos: 118





	Proximity

Some little while after the What-The-Heck-Olypse…

Lilith Ashtoreth stepped from her prized Bentley in the circular gravel driveway of the American Ambassador’s estate, a place she thought she would never see again.She climbed the stairs in the same severe black skirt suit and cap, and with the same air of authority, with which she had left it some six months before.

Secret service agents at the door nodded respectfully as she approached.

“How many we assist you, Ms. Ashtoreth?” asked one of the men.It didn’t matter which one.They were identical. 

In her quiet, steely Scottish burr she replied, “I received an emergency phone call from my former charge.Is he still in his room?”

“Yes, Ms Ashtoreth,” said one of the men.

“Have you any idea what this is about?”

“No, Ms Ashtoreth, but he isn’t in any danger, and we have your strict instructions that he is to remain undisturbed unless otherwise.”

“You remembered.Very good!I’m going up.Please inform them I’m here.”

One of the men spoke up his sleeve.

“Nanny is entering the building.Repeat, Nanny is entering the building.”

A tinny voice from up the same sleeve responded, “Roger that.”

The agent held the door open for her and she swept in.

As the door closed behind her, the men eyed each other through their RayBan sunglasses and one of them shuddered.

Nanny nodded to the servants who peered out at her from doorways and halls and her acute hearing picked up their whispers:It’s Nanny!Nanny’s back!Does the ambassador know?Does it matter?

She reigned in a smirk as she ascended the thickly carpeted stairs to the second floor, and turned down a hallway with several doors, all of which were closed, but only one of which had a secret service agentposted outside.

“You may go now,” she said.“I will summon you if you are needed.”

He started to open his mouth in protest, when she snapped her fingers upward and he froze.

His mouth sat in a perfect ‘O’, and since Nanny could resist anything but temptation, she took out her spare tube of ‘Kiss Me Quick’ lipstick and liberally applied it to the agent’s lips, then tucked the tube into his breast pocket.

She turned and knocked at the door, and when she spoke, her commanding voice grew soft with fondness and indulgence.

“Warlock?”

“Nanny?”

“Yes, it’s me, my little hellspawn.May I please come in?”

“What’s the secret code?”

“ ‘Gabriel is a poop head.’ “

The door unlocked and opened for her of its own accord.

“Nanny!” Warlock cried.

He sat on the bed, looking small and tearful.

The door swung closed and locked.

She went to him, and opened her arms and she hugged him until he was ready to let go.

“What’s happened, dearie?”

“My parents!”

“What have they done now?”

“They’re gone!”

Nanny sat on the side chair.

“What do you mean by that, dearie?Did they run away?Were they taken away?”

“I sent them away.”

Nanny’s right eyebrow rose sharply above the frame of her dark glasses.

“And, how did you accomplish this?”

“Just like you used to.You know, when you were annoyed, you just snapped your fingers and the annoying thing went away.”

Nanny sat up even straighter than before.

“How long have you been doing that?”

“Only just this once.They were moaning at me about going to Eton, as if I want to go to stupid Eton.This morning they told me they enrolled me for the fall term.”

“And you said no, of course.”

Warlock cringed.

“Not exactly.I told them to go to hell, and snapped my fingers.”

“Oh, dear,” said Nanny.

“I didn’t think it would work!I’m not like you!”

“That’s not necessarily true now, is it.We can’t leave them there.There will be quite a row if they’re suddenly gone for good.”

“Can you bring them back?”

“Not without actually going down there to look for them.I can’t bring them back the same way they went.Only you can do that, Warlock.”

The boy gaped up at her, then looked down at the fingers of his right hand.

“Should I stand up?”

“Doesn’t matter, dearie, but, what does matter is, you have to actually want them to come back.”

“Oh,” said Warlock.

“I raised you a little too well, my hellspawn.Whether you’re fond of them or not, we can’t leave them there.Hell is not a place for the living.”

Warlock rolled his eyes in exasperation.

“Nanny, this sucks.”

“Yes, dearie, I know.Much of life does, as I’ve told you before.”

“Alright,” he relented.

He looked disgruntled, but he snapped his fingers upward as Nanny had always done.

For a moment there were two singed and hysterical people huddled on the bedroom rug.Nanny snapped, and one of them disappeared, and the other was perfectly dressed, coiffed and unsinged.

Harriet Dowling looked around, bewildered.

“Woopsy-daisy, dear,” said Nanny, and handed her to her feet.“That was quite the misstep.You didn’t hurt yourself?”

“Nanny?”

“Yes, Mrs Dowling.As we arranged, I’ve come to collect young Master Warlock for an outing.Is this a bad time?”

“No!No, it’s fine, Nanny, it’s… I think my meds need adjusting is all.Actually, do you think you might take Warlock for a few days?You’ll be paid, of course.Will twice your usual rate do?”

“That should suffice,” said Nanny.“Warlock, pack your things.We’ll be away for… perhaps a week?”

“Yes,” said Harried.“That would be excellent, Nanny, thank you.Where did Thad go?”

“I believe you said he was in Washington this week.”

“Oh, yes, of course.”

They were on their way, Nanny at the wheel of the Bentley, Warlock in the back seat with enough monogrammed matching luggage to make the queen blush.

They were proceeded and followed by black cars full of secret service agents, but only until they turned onto the main road, when the agents and their cars were snapped back to the estate.

“Nanny?”

“Yes, dear?”

“Is Thaddeus really in Washington?”

“It seemed the best place for him at the moment.”

“Nanny, I’m really sorry.”

“What have I told you about that?”

“I shouldn’t ever be sorry, because I’m always right.”

“Good lad.”

“But, I’m still sorry.”

Nanny sighed.

“You didn’t do it on purpose, Warlock, but I’m afraid that you’re in for several unpleasant shocks this evening because of it.There will, however, be pizza.”

“Yay!Where are we going?”

“Home.”

“Scotland?”

“Not quite that far.”

When they pulled up in front of the bookshop, Warlock looked around interestedly.

“Is this Soho?”

“Yes.”

“Mom said I wasn’t allowed to go to Soho.”

“Right now, your mother is doubtless sleeping under the influence of enough sedatives to knock out a rhinoceros.She’ll never know.”

They got out and crossed the sidewalk.

“Nanny, what about my bags?”

She snapped her fingers.

“All stowed.”

The door to the shop was locked, the ‘Closed’ sign up, and the lights out.

Nanny gestured to the door, which unlocked itself and swung open for them.

The ringing of the shop bell brought forth a figure from beyond the shelves.

“We’re here, angel,” said Nanny, whose voice abruptly changed its accent and lowered in timber.

“Ah, Warlock, my dear boy.How are you?”

“Brother Francis?”

“I was Brother Francis.My name is actually Aziraphale, and that’s is what you may call me.”

“Going to change and have a shower, angel.”

“Don’t be long, dearest.”

They kissed.

Warlock watched this, and looked around, wondering when the people would jump out from behind the shelves and shout ‘surprise’.It wouldn’t take much.He was already there.

Aziraphale smiled at him, a familiar, kind smile.

“Come back and have some tea.Or would you rather have cocoa?”

“Cocoa!Er… please?”

“Excellent choice.Rather a toss up between that and tea for me as well.”

They climbed the stairs to a tiny, immaculate kitchen, with just enough room in the middle for a table and two chairs.

Warlock sat.Aziraphale bustled around, making cocoa, humming to himself.

When they were finally seated, and had taken their first sip, Aziraphale said, “You must have a hundred questions.”

“Nanny isn’t a girl, is she.”

“You do cut right to the chase, don’t you.Neither of us is actually a boy or a girl.”

“But, you look like a boy.”

“We can and do sometimes adopt genders.We are supernatural beings who shift our appearances to try and blend in with human society.”

“What kind of supernatural being?I mean, you’re not a werewolf or something?”

“Not that kind of supernatural being.I’m actually an angel.”

Warlock blinked at him.

Aziraphale shrugged his wings into view.Instead of his cream-colored suit, he wore a long, flowing white robe, and a belt and sword scabbard, but the scabbard was empty.

“Wow!” Warlock breathed.

Then Aziraphale was back as he had been, bowtie and all.

“Is Nanny an angel, too?”

“No, she’s not.But, I’ll let Crowley explain that.”

“Who’s Crowley?”

“That’d be me, hellspawn.”

Warlock turned in his chair, and his mouth fell open.

Crowley had donned his sunglasses again, and gone with black jeans and a black t-shirt, with his damp hair brushed back, though without the usual styling.His bare feet revealed the same black polish as his fingernails.It wasn’t his sharpest look.He feared he was already going to scare Warlock out of his wits.Best to break it to him gradually.

“Is this how you usually look?” Warlock asked.

“It’s one of the options,” said Crowley with a shrug.“I’m, um, a demon.”

“Aren’t you supposed to be red, or something?”

“It’s not in the dress code,” said Crowley.“Pitchfork’s optional, too.”

“What about a tail?”

“Nope”

“So, you just look like everyone else?”

“Not entirely.”

Crowley sighed and took off his glasses.

The longer Warlock sat silent, the more uncomfortable Crowley grew.

Finally, Warlock said, “Nanny!That.Is.SO.COOL!”

Crowley smirked at Aziraphale.

“See, angel, Warlock thinks I look cool.”

“Warlock doesn’t live with a bathroom shelf holding twenty-seven separate haircare products.”

Crowley miracled himself up a chair just slim enough to fit between the table and counter.Luckily, he was also just slim enough to fit.

“You really okay with this?” he asked.

Warlock shrugged.

“I probably wouldn’t be if I hadn’t know you my whole life.I’m still not sure why you left me like that.I mean, your letter only explained so much, Nanny.”

Crowley and Aziraphale exchanged glances.

They had a story to tell.

When it was finished, Warlock’s eyes were enormous.

“The world sort-of ended, but not really.And, you thought I was the anti-Christ.”

“That’s about it,” said Crowley.

“And I’m sitting in a book shop that burned to the ground, and you thought Aziraphale was dead.”

“Yeah,” said Crowley very quietly.

“And, Aziraphale, you were really alive, just riding around in someone else’s body.”

“She was actually quite understanding about it,” said Aziraphale.“Lovely woman.”

“And Heaven and Hell are pissed with you both, but you can’t tell me why, just that it made them let you go.”

“Best you don’t know, my little hellspawn.Only angel and I know what happened, and it’s safer that way.”

“Though, if you do have any other questions, we will happily answer them, if we can.”

“I can only think of one.You’ve already been together for six thousand years.When are you getting married?”

They jumped as something large struck the front of the shop.

The thing that hit the shop was a parking meter, torn out of the ground and chucked at the door, clinging concrete and all.The busy street had gone horribly quiet, with no one on the sidewalk, and any cars speeding by as quickly as possible.

Up the way, a police officer stood stuck to a wall, two meters from the ground, and tried to draw a weapon that refused to be drawn.

Crowley and Aziraphale looked out from the open doorway, Warlock hiding behind them, but peering around because he had to know.They wanted him to sit quietly in the kitchen, and that wasn’t going to happen.

Before them stood a horrible figure in a long, filthy trench coat, his greasy white hair hanging limp around his face, and a large toad peering back at them from between the strands.Even from ten feet away, the stench was overwhelming.

“Hastur!” Crowley cried through a tight smile.“How lovely to see you again.”

“I don’t want no trouble,” Hastur growled.“Just gimme the boy and I’m gone.”

“Asking for the boy is asking for trouble,” Crowley replied.

“He belongs to me master, don’t ‘e.Sendin’ his own folks to Hell.Boy after me own heart, or he would be if I had one.”

“He’s not a demon, Hastur, or an angel, or even really human.He’s like us, like Aziraphale and me, and we’re not giving him to anyone.”

Hastur lost his admittedly thin temper and lunged forward, then screamed and reeled back, the flesh melted off his right hand.

“The wards’ve been augmented with hellfire and holy water,” said Crowley.“You may want to spread the word, yeah?”

“You can’t hide behind wards forever.”

“I’m betting we can stay here longer than Beelzebub will wait for you to finish your assignment.”

“She’ll wait as long as it takes for Lucifer’s son.”

“He’s not Lucifer’s,” said Crowley.

“Then who-“

For about five seconds, an idea, clearly a strange and new phenomenon, rolled around in Hastur’s head.Crowley sincerely hoped Hastur had not simply decided to level Soho because he could.Hastur wasn’t known for his subtlety.

Crowley braced for it.

But something even more ghastly happened instead.

Hastur smiled.

“You flash bastard,” he said to Crowley.“Even I’m impressed.I didn’t think you had it in you.”

Crowley drew himself up.

“ ‘Course I did.To do what?”

“Shaggin’ the ambassador’s wife.Lucifer put you up to it?Hedgin’ his bets?”

He caught sight of Warlock, peering around Crowley’s side.

Hastur clicked his tongue.

“I know you!Hag’s tits, Crowley, you think you could hide him from hell by givin’ him a lousy dye-job>Hey, boy, remember me?”

“You’re Hastur La Vista,” said the boy.“You still smell like-“

“Shut yer mouth, kid.Let’s go.”

Warlock whispered to Crowley, “Isn’t he the one whose partner you melted?”

“Ligur, yeah.Hastur’s not letting that go anytime soon.”

Warlock cocked his head, then snapped.

Abruptly, Ligur popped into existence at Hastur’s side.

“Wot the fuck?” Hastur shouted, and staggered like he’d been struck in the face with a girder.

Ligur watched this, and spat on the ground.

“What’re you lookin’ at, Hastur?Like you’re one o’ them, watchacall, beauty queens.”

“The flash bastard destroyed you with holy water.You was gone, don’t you remember?”

Ligur cocked an eyebrow.

“You bin drinkin’ lighter fluid agin?”

Aziraphale grasped Crowley’s arm.

“Crowley…”

“Don’t worry, angel.”

“I beg your pardon?This is not a tea party.”

Crowley patted Aziraphale’s hand, all the while smiling at Hastur in a very nasty way.

“I believe, Hastur, that Warlock’s done you a favor.It constitutes debt.”

“I didn’t ask ‘im to!I don’t owe nobody nuffin’!”Lightning crackled across his eyes, and he swelled alarmingly, but abruptly he stopped, and seemed to shrink.It was just as well.Had he exploded, the greater London area would likely have been hidden under a blanket of maggots.

“Whadyou want, boy?” Hastur spat at Warlock.

Crowley leaned down over Warlock’s shoulder.

“Don’t say anything, Warlock.”

“You keep outa this!” Hastur snarled.

But Crowley continued, relentless.

“Until you ask for something, Hastur’s in your debt.Demon’s don’t have many laws, but we’re still bound by that one among ourselves.”

“Wot’s he sellin’?” Ligur demanded.

“Boy brought you back, right?”

“If you say so.”

“Liddle sprog’s one o’ us,” Hastur spat.

“Whose?”

“Crowley’s.”

“Shit,” said Ligur.He looked Warlock up and down.“Why’d you do that, then?”

“Because I wanted to,” said Warlock.“I do whatever I want.I’m staying here.You’re leaving us alone.”

“I believe that is a command, not a request, Duke Ligur,” said Aziraphale.

Ligur started forward.Hastur smacked him viciously sideways.

“You want t’ be destroyed agin?The wards on the shop’ve got hellfire an’ holy water.”

He brandished his ruined hand.Ligur stared at it, then over at Crowley.

“How’s ‘e still standin’ there?”

“Come on,” Hastur grumbled.“We’ll get a pint an’ I’ll tell ya about the only thing I ever seen that gives me nightmares.”

They turned away.

“Oh, wait,” said Warlock.

He snapped his fingers and Hastur screamed and spun around, his hand miraculously repaired.

“Stop doin’ that!” he bellowed.

“It’s not trouble at all, Hastur,” said Crowley with smile and a jaunty wave.“He was chuffed to do it.”

Hastur growled ineffectually, and the demons popped out of sight, leaving a large pile of maggots on the sidewalk. 

Aziraphale gestured them away, and the street abruptly returned to life as if nothing had happened.

“Nanny?I’m going to-“

And he did, though he was happily magicked to the washroom toilet before he was sick.

Crowley held his hair away from his face and rubbed soothing circles on his back.

It took a while, but finally Warlock had nothing left to bring up.He sat back on his heels.

“Here, my boy,” said Aziraphale. 

He handed Warlock a glass of water.

Crowley closed the toilet lid and sat Warlock down on it.Crowley stood close by, so Warlock could lean against his side, which, happily, was sturdier than it looked.

“What did I just do?” Warlock gasped.

“Something even I’ve only ever done once or twice,” said Crowley.“You scared a duke of Hell.And now he’s in your debt, yeah?Well done!”

“I didn’t plan it that way!Wait, he’s a duke?Bleh!”

“He’s not having lunch with the Windsors, but as far as Hell goes, yep, he’s a duke.”

“And now he thinks I’m a demon, too!”

“Demon spawn, anyway.”

“Wait, Nanny,” said Warlock.“Did you really - you know - with my mother?”

“No!‘Course not!But we’ll let Hell think it.”

Warlock shuddered.“Those two…”

“What’s on your mind, hellspawn?”

“Those two were really angels once?”

“Hard to believe, though they say the more pious and close to God you were as an angel, you’re that must more evil as a demon.”

“What about you?Weren’t you pious or whatever?”

“Naw, I wasn’t much of an angel.Really, I’m not much of a demon, either.I never applied m’self.”

He soaked a flannel in cool water, and washed Warlock’s face, as he had when Warlock was small.

“So, if I’m not part demon, how am I doing all this stuff?”

“Aziraphale has an idea about that.”

They looked up at Aziraphale, his hands folded together in front of his tummy, for all the world like a vicar about to deliver a sermon.

“I believe that, by you living in close proximity to us during your formative years, you inadvertently gained some of our abilities.In other words, you are neither an angel, nor a demon, but you do an uncanny imitation of either one.”

“Guilt by association,” Crowley added.

“How long do you think it will last, Nanny?”

“No way to know.It’s been six months since we lived in that house.Maybe it’ll last a few days, or six months, or the rest of your life.”

“Your body is still mortal, we believe,” said Aziraphale.

The boy looked at his shoes.Finally, he looked up and said, “I’d like to take a nap now.”

“Sure, ‘course,” said Crowley, worriedly.Warlock hadn’t taken naps since he was four years old, and even then, never willingly.

Warlock winced.

“But I’m going to brush my teeth first.”

There had never been more than one bedroom in the flat over the bookstore, and it had only appeared since the little-apocalypse-that-couldn’t.As it was entirely Aziraphale’s creation, it resembled him, all cream and tartan, and pillows like clouds.It made Aziraphale happy, so Crowley bit his forked tongue.The demon had been allowed to miracle a mattress more to his liking, since he was the one who actually slept, but everything else looked like the efforts of a fussy, middle-aged gay man.

Even Aziraphale was aware this sort of decor would not do for a human boy.He could easily create a second bedroom.The problem was, he had only a vague idea of how such a bedroom should look.Crowley was the one who tucked up Warlock every night, and he’d never been impressed with whatever the Dowling’s decorator had provided.

In turn, Aziraphale was not terribly impressed by what Crowley created now.

“He cannot sleep in Count Dracula’s castle.”

“What?It’s cool.” 

“For you, perhaps.But black sheets and wallpaper for a child?”

“I suppose you can do better?”

“I believe I could.”

Crowley gestured for him to proceed.

So Aziraphale did.

“Well, it’s colorful, angel, I’ll give you that.”

Warlock, who was beyond being choosey, climbed into the bed shaped like a formula one racing car.

Crowley tucked him in by force of habit, and Warlock was asleep almost immediately.

They closed the door behind him and adjourned to their own room.

Crowley flopped down on the bed, stretching his feet.

“Come give us a kiss, angel.It’s already been a day.”

“In those heels?I imagine so.”

Aziraphale sat beside him and leaned over.The kiss was unhurried, and savored.

When Aziraphale pulled back, Crowley said, “I wore higher heels than that in the court of Louis Quatorze, remember angel?”

“The Bourbons were a pack of sociopaths,” said Aziraphale.

“Yeah, but they threw a hell of a party.”

It was getting on tea time when Crowley went to wake Warlock.He stood in the doorway and sighed.

“Angel?Come here a minute.”

“What is it, dearest?” Aziraphale asked.

“Look.”

“Oh, my.”

“Yeah, nice to know it’s not all demonic influence, but the kid’s gonna have a total freak out when he wakes up.”

“He’ll be a bit unnerved, perhaps, to wake up as a blond.If he suddenly sprouts wings, then he’ll have a ‘total freak out’.Though, it does make me wonder what other changes may be in store, and where he’ll be when they happen.”

“Yeah.Come downstairs, angel.We need to talk.”

They adjourned to the little room in the back of the shop.Aziraphale sat straight in his chair, Crowley sprawled across the sofa with a tired sigh.

“He can’t go back, can he,” said Aziraphale.

“Not to stay.Not when a stray thought and a finger snap’ll level Wembley Stadium.”

“Dearest, what are we going to tell his parents?”

“I’m sure you can think of something, my clever angel,Not sure they’d even miss him.And Hastur’s stubborn.He may still try to snatch him when we’re not around.”

“That rather leaves one option then, doesn’t it.We are responsible.We did this, however unintentionally.”

“He’ll have to live with us,” said Crowley.

Aziraphale fidgeted, choosing his words.

“I’m not sure I’m meant for parenthood.I’m a selfish being, I fully admit that fault.It would change so many things.No more popping into the Ritz for elevenses at a moment’s notice.”

“No more massive quantities of alcohol until we pass out.I’m aware, angel.It’d only be for a few years, before he’s on his own.”

“Yes, the most difficult years, from what I’ve always understood.A teenage boy can make Hastur look like a Girl Guide.”

Crowley snorted at the mental image, but Aziraphale was still speaking. 

“And you’re the one who has a way with children, not me.You did the most work to raise him.I just thwarted your wiles.”

“You did a bang up job of thwarting, angel.”

“Thank you, dearest.How are we going to do this?We don’t even know what he wants yet.”

“His parents were sending him to Eton next term, which he most definitely does not want.Dowlings weren’t planning on him being underfoot anyway.”

“That’s another thing.Where will he go to school?We can afford the same tutors he’s always had, but I don’t want strangers to know that much about us.We’d have to keep erasing their memories, and that’s terribly rude.”

“We were talking about Tadfield, weren’t we.It’d mean being away from the city, yeah, but he’d be surrounded by people who don’t find us all that weird.Look at Brian.He’s his own sort of weird altogether.”

Aziraphale shot him a sly look.

“You don’t think moving to a country village will put a crimp in your sleek urban lifestyle?”

“Funny, angel.”

“It must sound terribly boring to you after London.”

“You’ve never read anything by that Christie dame, have you.I mean, St Mary Mead, bodies everywhere.You’re safer walking naked at midnight in the East End with a five pound note on your forehead.”

The two sat in silence for a little while longer.

Finally, Aziraphale said, “It might be difficult for him to get in with the Them.They’ve known each other all their lives.The only children Warlock knows are other ambassadors’ offspring.”

“Maybe we could make some visits yeah?See how it goes?Anathema’s always going on about those spare bedrooms never put to use.”

Aziraphale rose.

“Let me telephone her.”

While this was going on downstairs, Warlock lay awake in the bed upstairs and listened to them talk.

He couldn’t understand what they were saying, but the cadences, the give and take of the different voices, soothed him.At first, when they bickered over something, Warlock’s muscles tightened in fear.But there was no explosion, no screaming or crying, no storming out and slam of the door.

Aziraphale said something archly, and Nanny snarked back, and Aziraphale laughed.

Neither of them left.

Although, he had no idea how Aziraphale would leave even if he wanted to.Did he have a car?Did he have a broomstick?

No, wait.Wrong supernatural being.

He was drifting off again.

Later, when he woke for supper, he went to the washroom, looked in the mirror and froze.His hair was the same as always: pin straight and in his eyes.It was just a different color now.

He wondered if he had done it in his sleep.He realized he could change it with a snap, had raised his fingers to do so, then just decided he liked how it looked against his dark eyes and left it.

The next morning, while he and Aziraphale ate eggs, bacon, pancakes, fried potatoes and toast, and Crowley drank a cup of coffee, they asked Warlock if he would like to go and visit some of their friends out of town for a few days.

No one ever asked Warlock if he wanted to go anywhere.

Truthfully, he wouldn’t mind staying at the book shop, but the idea of going to even one other place without secret service agents felt terribly exciting.

After breakfast, he watched Crowley build his bright ginger hair into a jaunty crest in the bathroom mirror, then they all climbed into the Bentley.

“Buckle up, hellion,” said Crowley.

Aziraphale raised a brow.

“Since when does the Bentley have seatbelts?”

“Since I picked up Warlock from the Dowling’s,” Crowley muttered, face red.

“And no bebop”?

“Shut it, angel.”

They were worried they were uprooting Warlock too soon after yesterday’s trauma, but he happily settled in the back seat with an electronic game, and surrounded by less chic luggage, and far fewer pieces of it.Crowley drove only a little slower than usual, but Aziraphale noticed.

He giggled and bit into another Madeleine from the bakery box on his knee.

Anathema met them at the door of Jasmine Cottage.Or, she met Aziraphale and Warlock at the door.Crowley was poking around in her undisciplined flowerbeds, which had not been properly put to sleep last autumn and were showing every sign of being allowed to run riot this spring.

“You,” Crowley spat at a quivering crocus.“What’s all this farting around?Look at the others.They’re miles ahead of you.Grow.Better.”

“Crowley,” said Anathema, “please don’t give my flowers anxiety.”

Aziraphale sighed, went to Crowley, and linked their arms.

“Come along, dearest.Plenty of time to rule the Garden of Eden after you’ve had your tea.”

Crowley went, but he shot the plant a warning look over his shoulder.

“I’ll be back.”

While they were upstairs, getting settled, Adam and Dog arrived and sat in the kitchen, Dog tucked beneath Adam’s chair.Anathema and Newt made lunch.

Aziraphale came in first.

“Ah, Adam!Thank you for coming over.”

“Uncle Aziraphale!”

Aziraphale ruffled his unruly curls.

“I do believe you’ve grown since I last saw you.”

Crowley stuck his head around the corner.

“They tend to do that when they’re eleven, angel.”

“I know, dear!I was just making human conversation.”

Adam grinned up at the demon as he entered and sprawled in a chair, almost entirely missing it.Crowley took off his glasses and tucked them in his coat pocket, as he tended to do when he visited Book Girl and her technologically hazardous boyfriend.

“Hey, Uncle Crowley.”

“Hey.How’s the apple stealing business?”

“Not a lot of that over the winter.We’ve had to torment Mr. Tyler other ways, like having snowball fights within a kilometer of his windows.

They heard a bumping footsteps on the stairs.They stopped at the creaking step three from the bottom, and jump up and down on it lightly, apparently experimenting with the varying sounds it could make.

“Oi!Warlock!” Crowley called.“Come in and meet Adam.”

Warlock stuck his his head around the corner in almost perfect imitation of Crowley, though his expression was far more wide-eyed.

Adam smiled.It was a winning smile.All his smiles were winning smiles, he couldn’t help it.

Dog tipped his head to the side to regard the new boy, sniffed at him, then went back to worrying the rawhide bone between his paws.

“Adam, this is Warlock,” said Aziraphale.

“You were the anti-christ!” Warlock blurted.

Aziraphale cringed, Crowley schooled his expression to keep from laughing.

“And you were the anti-anti-christ,” said Adam.

Warlock laughed in surprised, and Adam grinned, obviously proud of himself.

“This is Dog,” said Adam.“Dog, say hello.”

Dog looked like he’d much rather gnaw at his rawhide bone, but snorted out in exasperation and approached Warlock, tail wagging.Without further prompting, Dog sat and offered his paw, which Warlock shook gravely.Then Dog leapt up and licked Warlocks face, and skittered away behind Adam’s chair while Warlock screwed up his face in disgust and laughed.

“See, he likes you,” said Adam.

Crowley pulled out a chair and Warlock sat.

“Cheese toasties,” said Anathema, as she put the plates in front of the boys.

“Cool!”They cried in unison, and tucked into the food with great enjoyment.

Crowley recalled making the same thing for Warlock whenever his parents were away, which was often.Nanny’s meal repertoire was limited, not eating much himself, and all of it tended toward some variation of a cheese toasty, but Warlock never complained, even when Nanny encouraged him to do so.

The boys spent the afternoon as modern boys did, comparing electronic games, until Anathema shooed them out into the yard to play with Dog.

“The grown ups want to talk about us,” said Adam.“Come on.We’ll take Dog for a walk.”

“Stay off R. P. Tyler’s lawn,” said Anathema.

“We’re not afraid of him,” said Adam.

“No, but you won’t be happy if he complains to your Dad, and you get grounded.Again.You spent most of March in your room.”

Adam rolled his eyes.

“Alright,” he relented.

Crowley watched the two of them rambling along the creek at the bottom of the garden.Then Dog leapt into the water, and leapt out, and shook himself off vigorously, spraying them both while they gleefully protested.

Newt joined him at the window.

“Adam was a good first choice,” said Newt.“He gets on with other people, puts them at ease.He even puts me at ease, though he won’t let me touch his video games.”

“Smart boy,” said Crowley.

“Yeah,” Newt agreed.“Has Warlock ever had friends his own age?”

“No,” said Crowley.“I’m pretty sure he won’t know what to do with them.But if he suddenly sprouts horns and a tail, at least the Them won’t be all that surprised.”

“Anathema and I talk about having kids sometimes,” said Newt, “but she’s not all that keen on producing more Descendants.And I doubt I could put together a pram or a cot from a kit, never mind a bicycle later on.”

“Tell you what.One time offer.You two pop out a sprog, angel an’ me’ll miracle up a bicycle for it.”

“And if we don’t have a… um…. sprog?”

“We’ll miracle you up a bicycle anyway.You n’ Book Girl can have a matching set, yeah?”

That night, Aziraphale and Crowley lay in a surprisingly comfortable bed in the guest room.Aziraphale read aloud, and Crowley curled up around him, head on Aziraphale’s chest.Aziraphale reached the end of the chapter.

“My dear?” he asked.“I can hear your brain working from here.”

“Nothin’ serious, angel.I was just thinkin’.It could have been worse, couldn’t it.This whole thing with Warlock sending the Dowlings to Hell.”

“Howso?”

“He could’ve told ‘em to go fuck themselves.”

He turned his gaze on Aziraphale, half expecting to be chided mildly for such language.

Instead, the angel giggled.

“Imagine the chiropractor fees!”

“Naw, angel, NHS at least.”

“NHS would give them a wrench and tell them to take care of it themselves.If, in fact, they could spare the wrench.”

“Come and kiss me, angel.It’s been a day.”


End file.
